Memories
by Newbie08
Summary: Self explanitory...description inside


Title: Memories

Rating: Any

Pairing: Say it with me everybody… 'Harm and Mac.'

Disclaimer: Not mine. I thought about stealing them once but then I realized I couldn't afford them.

Summary: This takes place after the Four Percent Solution. Mac hasn't been feeling so great as of late and on the day of this particular 'anniversary,' Mac's feelings intensify.

Author's Note: For the sake of this story, Mac is thirty-eight years old and her birthday is in December. This is told from Mac's POV.

All mistakes are courtesy of me. Thanks for your time.

Sarah MacKenzie's Apartment

Georgetown

December 27, 2004

1948 hours (7:48 pm local)

Twenty-two years. That's how long it's been since I left home, never looking back and never wanting to go back. Leaving had been an exciting and exhilarating experience. I couldn't remember one other time in my life when I had felt so…free.

Leaving had been the best thing for me. I didn't have a curfew, I could do whatever I wanted and be with whomever I chose. But I guess that would be the typical attitude for any teenager in my position. And it was so…thrilling, knowing no matter what that I'd be having a good time.

But that was when my life started to unravel, when I started to lose sense of who I really was. The life that I created for myself, the one that I so desperately wanted turned out to be the one I couldn't escape.

But it never failed. You see I may have escaped my old life, the one with the drinking and abuse. Escaped the physical aspect of it, removed myself from the situation. But no matter where I was or whom I was with, the memories always caught up with me. So every year since I turned sixteen, the day I ran away from my old life not wanting to look back, the memories come to haunt me, consuming my thoughts.

That is why, every year on my birthday I try to stay as busy as possible. It's the one day I choose not to relax. Instead I request crazy assignments that require me to travel on submarines or fly to foreign countries, where I throw myself into the task at hand and neglect everything else that's going on back home.

Today is also the only day I allow myself to pick at my old scabs, revealing the deep wounds covering my emotional shell. Every year, whether I'm just returning home from an assignment or I have the rare pleasure of this day falling on a weekend; I go through my memory box, reminding myself of how far I've come. And this year is no different.

The contents of the box never change, it always holds the same things it did the year before and the year before that. But this is what I have left. This box of memories that ties me to the life I used to live. And regardless of how dark and nasty it used to be, there is some psychological part of me that thinks it's better for me to go through this box rather than bury it. Because burying it means your feelings get packed down year after year before finally exploding. But by looking through the box and essentially reliving the memory in my mind, I release those feelings, allowing myself to get passed them and move on with the year ahead of me.

So now I sit clad in my Santa Clause pajamas on my couch in the living room, memory box on the table in front of me and the lights dimmed to accommodate my depressing mood.

I place my hand on the first object, already knowing which memory I'm going to relive based on the texture of said object. I pull out the small magazine cut out of a doll and hold it gently in my hands, the memory immediately flooding my thoughts.

I never saw a magazine or book lying around the house. The only reading material we had was the newspaper and **nobody** touched that except for my father. So when my class went to the library during the school day, I would hide a magazine under my pant leg by wrapping it around my leg and stuffing it into my sock.

When I got home that night, while my parents were having one of their many arguments, I pulled the pair of green plastic Crayola scissors out from my pillow, I had to steal those too, and proceeded to cut out the pictures of the toys I wanted but knew I would never have.

Coming out of the memory, I place the magazine cut out on the table in front of me and reach in for another memento, only to stop short when I hear a knock on my door. I definitely wasn't expecting company at any point today. I hoped I would at least hear from someone besides Bud and Harriet who called to wish me a Happy Birthday, but no. Harm and I haven't been as close as we used to be, and even though I know it's my fault I still hoped he would call or even talk to me. But he hasn't said anything to me since the night of my accident.

I heard the knock again and looked around my apartment. It definitely was slightly dark in here, maybe whomever was standing behind the door would notice the lack of light peeking through the gap from the bottom of my door and just go away. I sat still, completely motionless except for the slight rise and fall of my chest from my breathing, afraid to move incase my shadow cast on the floor and they seen it.

When they knocked the third time I knew that a) whoever it was didn't have plans on leaving and b) I was being completely silly. I had secretly hoped for company all-day and here I am, trying to ignore the only person who showed up. I stand up from my perch on the couch and turn the knob, making the lights just a bit brighter, but not on fully, and then answer my door.

It was Harm, his hand poised and ready to knock again. I could tell by his facial features that he wasn't sure if being here was the best idea, but when I noticed the rather large bag he carried in his other hand, I realized his visit was anything but spontaneous. The look in his eyes showed determination with just a hint of nervousness.

"Hey," I said with a smile. I couldn't help myself; I always smile when he's around.

"Hey." When he looked down at his feet in hesitation, I wasn't quite sure what to make of it. Are we back to the point where just being in the presence of each other feels awkward?

I move aside and ask, "Would you like to come in?" He removes his gaze from his feet to my face, and then it falls to my attire.

"Someone's into the Christmas spirit." His joke, although not a knee-slapper, made me chuckle. Had he looked around my apartment before making his comment he would've noticed my attire is the only thing that relates to the holiday. After all, Christmas was technically over, so I really didn't even have to be wearing these pajamas.

Once I'm finished being overly formal, asking him if I could take his coat or get him something to eat or drink, we decide sit on the couch. Bad idea MacKenzie. I forgot to hide my memory box, so right on the table in front of us is my box full of memories and the magazine cut out. And I knew he wouldn't be able to resist asking what this was.

"It's a memory box," I said it in a tone that would let anyone know not to ponder it any further…but not Harm. He was a few seconds faster than I was so he scooped up the box and the cut out. He studied the picture in his hands, confused about what to make of it.

After he was through with the picture, he shook the box, mixing the contents of it around, trying to see what else it held, but still holding on to the thin string of politeness by not digging through it.

"What are all these, Mac?"

I sighed, knowing if I didn't say anything he would just drill me with questions until I answered him.

"They're just memories, Harm. Just a few things from my childhood." Harm looked at me with slight surprise. He'd never seen this box before nor have I ever mentioned it to him. My childhood was something we barely, almost never, talked about. We both knew it existed; yet we never spoke about it. Like cosmic timing or the threat of nuclear war, for that matter.

Knowing this one particular topic was rough for me, Harm put the old shoebox down, placed the picture in it then put the lid on before pushing the box towards the top corner of the table. He pushed the table away from us, only a few inches, then placed the bag he was carrying between him and the table.

I was always curious and Harm knew that so when I leaned forward in an attempt to peak, he closed the bag quickly and replied with a smile, "Not so fast, Marine. You'll spoil the surprise."

Surprise? Did he just say surprise? He knows how much I love those, especially when it's a surprise from him. I smile at him in return, knowing I was caught.

His features change from happy and fun to soft and loving. I know I've been distancing myself from him lately and he'd been doing a bit of the same but knowing he did something in an effort to make me happy causes my heart to flutter.

"Close your eyes." I listen to his soft command right before I hear paper rustling and the sound of bending…plastic?

After a few more seconds, he tells me to open my eyes and when I do I can't stop the tears from glossing over my eyes. Laying out on the table in front of me is two cupcakes in a plastic tin from my favorite bakery, a medium sized box adorned with a bright red ribbon and a small gift bag with an envelope and something else I can't quite see.

"Harm…" My hand goes to my mouth, while I stare at my table in awe. Although I'm not quite sure what I did to deserve such treatment, I am very thankful and I tell him so.

"There's no need to thank me, Mac. I'm just trying to make you happy." He looks at me with such a piercing gaze, almost as if he's trying to see right through me. He won't be able to though, because for whatever reason, my walls are still firmly in place. Dr. McCool tries to convince me to let them down every once and a while, especially with Harm but I haven't been able to do so just yet.

I notice when he realizes this because he pulls his gaze away from me and looks at the objects covering the coffee table, trying to hide the hurt I seen in his eyes. "So which would you like first? Presents or cupcakes?" Then he looks at me with a smile, already knowing the answer. It definitely was a tough question, though. I do love getting presents but the sweets over-powered the gifts this time.

"Cupcakes," I reply. Within a few seconds, Harm has the cupcakes out of the plastic tin and on a plastic plate he took from the bag, both adorned with a single candle.

"I thought about getting you a cake but I couldn't find one big enough to hold all of the candles."

"Jerk," I say as I punch him in the arm playfully, while both of us laugh. It feels good to laugh, especially with him. My face only hurt a little bit, due to the slight bruising I still have, but it's definitely worth it.

Maybe McCool is right. Maybe if I just allow myself to relax with Harm, it won't be so hard to let him in to where I want him the most?

I watch as Harm pulls a lighter out of the bag before getting ready to light the candles. At the questioning look I was sure I have, Harm says, "Don't worry, Mac, I didn't pick up smoking again. I bought this so I could light the candles. If you want me to I'll throw it away before I leave. Besides, I know how much you hated it when I smoked."

It was true; I hated him smoking almost as much as him flying. But knowing that he would once again do something for me, albeit a small something, causes my heart to flutter a little bit more.

I watch as he lights the candles before bringing the plate closer to my face. "Make a wish, Sarah." Oh, he called me 'Sarah;' he never calls me that. I have to admit though; I do like it when he says my name.

I look at him softly before closing my eyes and making my wish. I wish for all the good things such as better health and a promising future. But I also wish for the strength I know I'm going to need to let Harm in. I know it's going to be difficult but it's something I have to do in order for my first wish to come true.

I open my eyes to find him staring at me with…wonder? He has looked at me like this before, but this time it's different. It isn't him wondering what I wished for. It's him wondering if wishes are going to be enough. He knows that I have been through some tough times as of late so I guess this is his way of making sure I wished for the right things to get me through these times.

Harm leans toward me, mindful of the plate of cupcakes between us, and places a soft and tender kiss on my cheek, lingering there longer than I thought. I close my eyes and take in the feel of his lips on my face, the way the hair by my ears moves from his breath. I take pleasure in the way his cheek, so smooth against my own, moves in small circles on my face, taking in my softness.

Suddenly, he slowly removes his cheek from mine and gently places his forehead on mine, careful of my injury. I open my eyes to look into his soft blue ones and that's when I realize I've made a huge mistake.

All this time, I've been keeping him at arm's length, unwilling and too afraid to let him in. Too afraid to share my fears and insecurities with him and all along I never once thought about how he might be feeling. But now as I look into his eyes I know.

His eyes, usually as crystal clear as the waters at the beaches of tropical islands, are cloudy and full of confusion. His emotions are rolling in torrents, tumbling over each other, each conflicting with the other, fighting to be released and shown.

I lean forward to kiss him, to show him it's okay to talk to me and to let him know I feel the same, but he pulls away with a whispered, "Happy Birthday, Sarah."

We each take a moment or two to catch our bearings, Harm with the plate on his lap and his thumbs twirling around each other in obvious conflict, and me watching him, wondering why it took so long for me to notice his emotional conflict.

After a moment or so, Harm put the plate of cupcakes on the table along with the lighter and grabs the gift box and gift bag before asking, "Which one do you want to open first?"

I look at him, unsure of what I should do. Part of me wants to ask him how he's feeling but I know there's a good chance he won't even answer. By doing that, I'd risk him leaving and that's something I don't want. I may not have felt like having company earlier but seeing him at my door brightened up my night and I didn't want it to end so soon.

However, by answering his question I would get to open my presents, which would also mean the time for his departure, would arrive sooner than I would like. Talk about a Catch 22.

I notice him staring at me and that's when I know I have to answer before he gets the wrong idea. I look back and forth between gifts before saying, "I'll open the bag first."

Harm hands me the gift bag and that is when I noticed how nervous he was, I just don't know why. I don't think either one of us have ever been nervous when giving gifts to each other, so why start now?

I reach in and pull the card out first, smiling at the child-like decoration of a cake with many candles on the cover of a Hallmark creation before reading the writing above the picture to myself. 'Here's to wishing…' I open the card and smile at the rest. '…You a very Happy Birthday.' Underneath that is a small yet pleasant message from Harm. 'I know this isn't much but I hope you have a wonderful birthday. I'll do whatever I can to make sure you do because you deserve it more than anyone else…Harm.'

I close the card and put it aside before reaching into the bag for the gift and what I pull out causes me to gasp, my throat to constrict and tears to form in my eyes. How could it be? It's been many weeks, almost two months since we've seen this and I could have sworn he wasn't even paying attention.

To others, this would seem like an average gift, something you give to either a child or a loved one on Valentines Day. But to me, this means the world.

When I look at him, he answers my un-asked question. "I went back that night to get it. I could've just bought it for you when we were there the first time but it wouldn't have had the same effect." His voice quiet but filled with a tenderness I'd never heard from him before.

I hold the stuffed animal softly in my hands, like one would with porcelain, too afraid to damage it. I never would've thought he would do something like this.

He and I went shopping for AJ's birthday and we stopped into this little boutique that Harriet always raves about. It's mainly an Art and Craft's boutique but they also sell stuffed animals made by the owner and her mother.

We were on our way to the register when I noticed it: the small white teddy bear dressed like a jester, clad in red and blue stripes with a matching hat, adorned with tiny bells at the tips of the hat. I stopped to look at it, Harm at my side, and before I could stop myself I started talking.

I told him how when I was a kid I'd always wanted to go to the circus but my father would never take me because he was terrified of clowns, although he would never admit to it.

I told him how I used to beg and plead with him, using the excuse that I'd just wanted to spend time with him. I even told him we didn't have to stay long, just go there to get a souvenir or a stuffed animal they used to sell just like this.

But deep down I wanted to go to the circus so I could feel like a normal kid with normal parents. The kid that went on family trips to the zoo or circus, just so I would have something to talk about with the other kids at school.

Instead, I was the kid who wore the same clothes two days in a row, the kid that went to school with bruises and acted like it wasn't a big deal. I was the kid that nobody wanted to be friends with because I wasn't 'normal.'

And when I turned to look at him, his gaze was focused on the woman behind the counter. It figured, the one time I opened up to him and he wasn't even listening.

I give my head a slight shake in an attempt to bring myself back to the present time. I open my mouth to say something, anything, only to find it constricting. Who would've thought a simple gift would have such a profound effect on me?

When I feel his hand on mine, I look into his eyes and still see his emotions causing a battle within. But that doesn't stop him from saying, "I know you've had a lot going on lately, with your accident and your health, but I just wanted you to have it for whenever you're feeling less than normal. I hoped you would be able to just look at it and feel better."

I look at him dumbfounded; how could someone in obvious turmoil, put aside his own feelings for someone else's?

I unfold my legs, partly because I'm beginning to cramp but mostly because I wanted to sit closer to him. Once I'm there, I lean over and give him a soft, tender, lingering kiss to his cheek; all while holding his chin so I know he won't pull away.

I rest my forehead on the side of his head briefly before whispering, "Thank you," to him.

I pull away completely then say, "I didn't even think you were listening to me. I looked at you and it seemed you weren't even paying attention. You were staring at the cashier like..." I trail off fighting with myself over whether or not to finish the sentence honestly.

"Like what, Mac?" I can feel his eyes on me yet I'm too afraid to look at him because I know if I do, he'll be able to finish the sentence for me, just by looking into my eyes.

Now it seems there is only one thing to do, so I do it. "Like you were interested in her. Like you wanted to be talking to her instead of me." I answer with a bit of hurt yet very truthful.

As soon as the words are out of my mouth I feel the cushion I'm dip slightly. Harm moves towards me and lifts my chin with his index finger, forcing me to look at him. His previous cloudy eyes, clearer than before, bore into my own.

"Listen to me, Mac. First of all, I am not interested in the cashier. I was looking at her because I thought she looked familiar and it turns out that we grew up together. Our mothers were, and still are, best friends. I figured all this out when I went back to but the bear for you."

"I am only interested in one woman, and I'm going to do whatever it takes to get you to believe that." His voice filled with truth and sincerity, his gaze strong, chilled me to my bones.

"And second, there is never going to be another woman who captures my attention the way you do. I want to be with you, whether we're talking, walking or even sitting on the couch watching a movie, I only want to be with you, no one else."

I can't help myself. The tears that have been resting on the rims of my eyes for the past few minutes have finally began their descent down my cheeks. I knew I'd be crying tonight. I always cry on this day when I go through my memory box. But this cry is different. It's a cry I don't normally have on this day. It's a cry with happy tears.

Ever since his arrival he's been doing or saying things that slowly chip away at the walls I've erected around my heart. And now I'm finally in a place where I'm able to allow him to do so.

"Promise?" I know my voice is shaky and filled with the emotions I'm not quite ready to release yet but that doesn't stop me from speaking.

Harm uses the pads of his thumbs to brush the tears away from my cheeks before replying, "I promise." The look in his eyes would've told me the answer I was looking for but hearing him say it meant so much more.

After I allowed myself a moment to sober, I reach over and take the other present Harm passes me. He laughs when I shake the box attempting to figure out what it could hold.

After giving up on guessing, I pull the bow off, lift the lid to the box and dig through the Cray paper to find the most exquisite gift anyone could've asked for. I take it out of the box and place it in my lap, similar to the way I did with the stuffed animal, and run my finger over the embroidered title. The ivory letters forming the word 'Memories' sat on the cover of a pure white photo album.

My first thought is that it's just an album with nothing in the pages. But when I open the cover I see that I'm surely mistaken. The first few pages are of me alone, all in my uniform and all taken at JAG during the early stages of my career.

The more pages I turn the more pictures I see of me with other people. The first few were of Bud and myself when he first started, some with me, Harriet and Bud before they married, then finally I come across a picture of Harm. It's a picture of just the two of us at Bud and Harriet's wedding. I remember feeling goose bumps on my skin when he put his arm around my waist. That was the moment I realized I felt more than friendly towards him. With just a simple gesture, my heartbeat accelerated and my breath quickened and that's when I knew my relationship with him would change.

As I got toward the end of the album, I noticed mostly all of the pictures were of just the two of us. Pictures from the JAGathon, company functions, Afghanistan, Christmas and Thanksgiving and a few with our godchildren.

But even though we were at different places in these pictures, one thing always remained the same…we were together and we looked happy. Is this all I need to realize what I want in my life? A photo album?

As I flip to the last page I notice a single statement typed out and placed into a picture slot. "I hope this allows you have better memories than what you are used to…"

I look up at Harm, knowing I have to start somewhere but not quite sure what to say. "Uh…How did you do all this?" As much as I love this, I know he wouldn't have been able to do this all on his own.

"In a word…Harriet. She's the one that got all the pictures for me. But the idea was all mine."

I know I should probably say something but I can't seem to get my mouth to move. I've been on such an emotional roller coaster I don't know whether I'm sitting or standing.

I look at Harm and notice that his eyes are now completely clear, the color of his eyes brighter than ever. I put the book on the table before scooting over the rest of the way to him. I wrap my arms around his shoulders and hold him to me, unwilling to let him go.

His eyes may be clear and storm free but his body language tells me otherwise. Instead of being calm and relaxed he's tense and rigid. "What is it?" I whisper, not wanting to release him.

I feel him take a deep breath then exhale slowly before saying, "I want to be a part of your memories, Mac. Just like you're apart of mine." I close my eyes and take in the words he just said. Does he think I have no memories of him? That for the past nine years of my life he just existed in it, instead of being a part of it?

I kiss his temple before extracting myself from him only far enough for me to look into his eyes. "You have been the one constant in my life for the last nine years, Harm. There's not one memory I have without you in it." I look at him tenderly to gauge his reaction. When he just stares at me with love in his eyes, I know what I have to do next.

I lean in slowly, allowing him time to back out if he wants to, before fusing my lips to his. It starts off slow, just a kiss of confirmation, assuring him that I'm not going anywhere, but it took on a life of it's own.

Slowly, the years of pent up passion and emotions from both of us, found their way into the kiss, causing it to quicken and intensify.

But unfortunately, the need for oxygen becomes too strong and we had to part. We sat breathless, arms wound around each other's bodies and foreheads together.

Once we caught our breath I asked, "So what do you say, Sailor? Want to hang around and talk about our holiday memories?" I knew I was stretching this but I just couldn't help myself. He never went to the wall this year like he normally does and I I finally had Harm where I wanted him and I didn't have any intention of letting him go anywhere.

He just smiled at me and readjusted himself on the couch so that my back was to his chest and my head rested on his shoulder. "I'd love to."

And so we stayed, wrapped in the warm embraces of each other, talking about the memories we'd shared together and some memories we had alone. No more reminiscing about my childhood. From now on, my birthday is going to be spent with Harm and the memories we have of each other.


End file.
